Tarot: To read or not to read?

I'm hesitating a little to write this post, mostly because it feels incredibly personal, and I think that the comparisons I make in it may feel too strong for some people.  Please bear with me as I share my real feelings and experiences. :)

Some of you may know this already - though many of my online readers probably don't - but I *HATE* doing tarot card readings.

I love tarot.  But I hate readings.

I talk about it all the time with people close to me, and anyone that gets in a general discussion with me about tarot.  I love the symbolism of tarot, the system of it, the way that the images on the cards can relate with so many thoughts, feelings and experiences in my life.  I love how in a tarot spread the pictures dance together to form thoughts and ideas and stories.  I sometimes say that for me tarot is like the most amazing and complex filing system: when a card comes up, I check the file in my brain assigned to it, and find I can access more information, ties, ideas and experiences from my memory because I've related it to symbols and images, than I can with just simple memorization of facts.

The other day I was talking to a friend who was explaining some spiritual lessons she was going through, and talked about how she's learned that "deadly sins" (read that term loosely, since "sin" isn't exactly anything I believe in) take residence in us and choke us, but we let them in, we allow them to do that.  I smiled at her and said, "I don't believe in sin, but what you're describing to me is the Devil card."  Then she talked about needing to find balance in an alchemical dance between openness and boundaries.  "Yeah, that's the Temperance card," I said.  Then she explained how when we free ourselves from habits that are hurtful or self-sabotaging it's like we rise from the dead.  Again, I smiled, "That's the Judgement card."  Just about everything in life, especially involving spirituality, matches one of the files in my mind that is labeled with a tarot card.  That's why I love tarot.

So why do I hate readings?  I've hated doing readings almost ever since I first became acquainted with tarot.  When I think back on it, I didn't mind doing readings for people when I was just practicing, or the online readings I did on the tarotforum.net page for strangers.  I don't mind getting involved in discussion and commentary about readings.  I just hate doing readings.  People always ask me why?  Why do I hate doing readings?  Over the years, I've given a lot of answers, but they generally boil down to these:

1. I feel like when I do readings people come with expectations, and I don't know how to meet them.  I just read what I see in the cards, and I have no idea how to make it meet any kind of expectation.  I've done a lot of different things to try and give people the right experience, and overall I've gotten golden reviews about my readings; so the expectations I'm worried about probably don't exist.  But my stress and tension over them do, and I hate feeling that way.
2. I don't love getting so personal and intimate with people, even if we're really only talking about their personal and intimate details.  When I read cards for someone, I usually get a lot of insight into their lives - from the cards themselves and from discussing the reading with them - and I find it taxing to be so intimate so quickly.  A lot of people tell me: you need to shield your energy, or make sure you aren't taking on people's problems, etc.  That's not what this intimacy issue is.  The issue is that most people I read for are complete strangers to me, and I feel uncomfortable being so rashly exposed to their lives and energies when I don't know them at all, and they don't really know me.  It feels intrusive, even if I'm an invited guest; kind of like staying at a complete stranger's home for the weekend.  Even if it's safe or fun or whatever, I don't like being immersed in other people's worlds.  I'd rather stay at a hotel, so to speak.
3. I usually don't feel sufficiently "in" to people's readings.  The best way I can describe it is with an analogy.  For me, each card reading is like going to a funeral.  I know that sounds drab, but bear with me.  Funerals are personal and emotional events, where people come into contact with things that are painful, traumatic or oddly liberating.  They are dealing with their emotions, and the entire event holds deep meaning.  But if I'm a stranger showing up at your grandma's funeral, I may be touched and cry or whatever, but I also may feel nothing.  And then I'm the weird person who's sitting comfortably in a room of emotional people feeling like a sociopath because I'm not moved at all.  Often, when I give readings, I find myself just reading away like I'm reading a newspaper or something, and my querents are very emotionally touched or moved; then I look up and I'm like, "Oh, yeah, I should wipe the casual smile off my face probably..."  It's not a big deal, but I feel awkward and uncomfortable in such situations.  I'm not actually very empathic, so when people are struggling I often can't match the vibe authentically.  And faking a match feels terribly fake, which fakeness I try to avoid in my life.  
4. When people want readings - and I know this because I feel the same way when I want a reading, and I do sometimes want readings - they want them RIGHTNOW.  Not tomorrow, not next week, they want a reading at that very minute.  That means that my appointment book was always empty, but my phone and email are constantly buzzing with people in emergencies, and I constantly have walk-ins asking if I can drop everything and read cards.  For most people that would probably be cool, no big deal.  For me, it felt like I was always on a leash that someone would be coming to yank.  

Ok, those are all mediocre excuses.  It would make sense that I would dislike doing card readings, but to hate doing them?  Make no mistake, I hate doing readings - even when I make money at them, even when its for close friends, even for fun at a party, I hate doing readings.

Well, today I realized why I hate them, and because of this realization, I've decided on an immediate cease-fire for all tarot reading practice, because it's actually extremely traumatic.

In order to understand my feelings about card readings, we have to take a trip down memory lane.  When I learned to do tarot, I was immediately very good at it.  I started giving readings to friends and family, and they encouraged me to go pro and start charging to do readings for strangers.  I didn't want to.  I felt uncomfortable with the idea.  In fact, often the friends and family that I read for pressed me for readings I didn't want to give - but I'd do the readings because I felt bad withholding answers they desperately wanted.

Soon, the pressure to read professionally and for strangers got hotter.  People started begging me for readings.  I felt bad saying no, even though I really didn't want to do them.  Friends of mine would refer their friends, and I did my best to say no, but would often give in and read for them even though I didn't want to.  At the time, I owned a retail spirituality shop with my sisters, and me reading cards was often a throw-in at events to get people to come.   I didn't love doing them, in fact, I still suffered from medium-grade social anxiety, and the one-on-one nature of a card reading made me feel dread and resentment; but I was good at it, so I felt bad depriving the world of my talents.

Sometimes a reading here and there was fun.  I liked reading at parties where people would just blow through for quickie 15-minute flops.  But for the most part, I would hope for a reading because I needed the money and simultaneously pray that no one bought one.

Then one day, I decided to be done with readings.  I had a kind of traumatic experience with this stalker lady and a crazy love triangle.  I needed a break, I decided, and put my cards away.

Over the next three years, I'd keep my tarot cards close and on-hand, but only because I liked them, I liked to look at them - I always turned down readings.  I would read for my sisters here and there, or close friends upon request, but I still resented doing it.  I never read for myself.  It usually never occurred to me to even try.

Keeping my cards handy would put me in tricky situations.  My sisters loved telling people what a talented card reader I was, because they were proud of me for having such an awesome skill; then those people would invariably ask/beg me for a reading.  "No," I'd say kindly.  Then, "NO."  Then, "SERIOUSLY, PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS."  Then with pressure from people's dire need or my siblings who were excited for me to show off, I'd give in and resentfully do a reading.

For three years I tried to avoid readings, and was pretty successful at avoiding them except maybe once every few months.  But every time it came up, every time someone asked for a reading, I felt dread and resentment.

Then I began working at another spirituality shop with friends who are some of the biggest fans of my readings.  They'd ask me for readings here and there, and I generally liked giving them readings because they were my friends.  These friends were so excited about my talent, and so proud of me, that they insisted I must begin doing readings again professionally.  I said no.  And they continued to press the issue.  I explained that I really hated doing readings, and they teased me.  Soon they started sending people to me for readings, whom I tried to send away or turn down, but ultimately I would have to read for them.  Then they'd send more.  I figured I should try to make the best of it, and since the little income would help, I'd embrace the idea of being a professional card reader.  So I did, I went for it full-force, and did pretty well for eight months.  Yay me.

Except every reading I did, I pretty much hated.  I know that sounds mean and harsh, probably especially for those of you who have gotten readings from me.  Please know that it isn't about you; I hated doing readings for my best friends. I don't usually hate the readings while I'm doing them, but I hate the lead-in to the readings and the post-reading chit-chat.  The intimacy of the readings, the urgency, the thick and heavy meaning behind them - all of those factors I dread, day in and day out.

So, I decided about a month ago that I needed a break from readings.  I told my friends to refer any old clients or walk-ins to a friend of mine who reads cards, and took down my signage and my business cards from anywhere they were displayed.

And you know what happened?  I had about 40 people over a two week period show up and ask for readings.  Arg!  Constantly having to turn people down, turn them away, say no, and no again, and no-seriously-NO!  And I read for some friends because I felt terrible turning them away in their time of need, and regretted it and become even more resentful of people asking for readings.

After discussing this issue at length with friends and family members, who are all baffled by why I hate readings so much - because everyone thinks my reasons are stupid (which in a way I agree with them), I finally said, "I just feel wrong about it.  I feel forced into being intimate with people.  I feel like from the moment I picked up a tarot deck, I've been pushed and prodded and forced to be in intimate personal settings with strangers that I don't feel comfortable in, and that because they're paying me and because I'm making them feel so happy, I should ignore my discomfort."

Guess what that sounds like, folks?

Prostitution.

Now, I'm not saying that card readings are the same physical thing as prostitution, but that's what doing card readings feels like to me.  Not because anything is wrong with readings (or prostitution per se), but because I have felt from the moment I started tarot, forced into intimate settings with people I don't know.  Forced to bear my soul, bear my talents, bear my feelings and personal relationship with tarot to people whenever they demand it.  And I hate it, but I need the money; or I hate it, but they need answers so bad; or I hate it, but I can't let my friends/family down.

Well, that's STUPID!

I realized that 95% of all readings I've done, I've done under duress.  And even when I was "taking it on" and trying to be all positive about reading cards, it didn't change that my entire being was begging me to stop doing it and I fought myself because I didn't want to let my pimps or Johns down.  LAME!

And so I've taken down all of the buy-a-reading links on my website.  Yay - I felt so happy and liberated the moment I did it.  And almost immediately I had the option of applying for an awesome grad school program - something new to dedicate my time and energy to.  Yay!  And because I have a friend who reads cards and is happy to take the referred clientelle, I just send people her way any time it comes up.  I am so happy to be done with readings.

But I'm not done with tarot.  I've got some teaching plans in the works right now, and I plan to pick up on my Spiritual Memoir posts again.  Tarot is my buddy that will stick around, and that makes me really happy.

So - there we go!  I'm wondering - do any of you have talents that you simply don't enjoy engaging in, but feel like you have to do them because you're so talented?  Or in what ways do you feel you prostitute your time, talents, energy and ideas out for money?

The Butterfly Effect: A Magical Manifestation of Abundance

It's August 3, 2012, and I'm sitting at High Vibes Coffee & Crystals in Orem, UT, where I volunteer/trade working hours at the shop in exchange for meeting Reiki and Tarot clientele, and training in Reiki through Lisa Ross-Walker.  Troy Walker, the owner of the shop, and I, are having a little chat as I relieve him on his shift - something we do almost every day for 30 minutes or so.  I'm feeling deflated, tired and down.  As Troy and I are taking a look at why I feel like such crap, I start on a rampage.

Troy and Lisa

"I'm on my last pair of contact lenses, Troy, and I've been wearing them for like two months.  I finally saved up enough money to buy more, but the Optometrist won't let me renew my prescription unless I pay for a full eye exam, which I can't afford right now.

"I need to get a business license to make sure my Tarot and Reiki business is legal, and to make sure my student loan payments stay in deferment.

"I dropped my phone in the toilet the other day, and it survived until two hours later a can of soup fell out of the kitchen cupboard on it and smashed the screen.  I waited two weeks for a new screen to arrive in the mail, and as I was installing it, for some reason the LCD connector on the motherboard of my phone short-circuited and now the phone's totally ruined.  John and Cindy Hoover brought me a loaner phone until I can afford a new one, but it's the wrong technology to work with the SIM card I have.

"I gave a Reiki treatment the other day to a guy in desperate need who said he'd bring me the $55 the next day - two weeks later I still haven't heard from him."

Enter my tears, which I apologized for, and Troy insisted that I allow myself to cry as much as I needed to, even though I was "at work running the shop."  I started bawling.

"I just don't understand, Troy.  I understand how the Law of Attraction works, I'm reading the Divine Matrix and studying A Course in Miracles which confirm that by feeling positive and excited about my financial abundance I will pull it in to my space - but every time I get the money I need, the cost of what I hope to accomplish escalates.  I've been doing meditations and worksheets and grids for my root chakra, and embracing each experience as an opportunity for my situation to always be improving, but I'm reaching a breaking point where I just can't feel it any more.  I don't have a car or a phone, so it would be really challenging to even get a job if I wanted one at this point ... I mean, fuck, man, I just feel so screwed!"

After another 30 minutes of releasing my frustration, I started to feel better.  The release was good, and with a shaky resolve, I was able to step back into an energy of gratitude, hopefulness and happiness.  At around 3 PM I posted this on my Facebook page:

"In my life I'm surrounded by the nicest, most caring people on Earth, and I'm really grateful for it. Today, Troy W. Walker listened to me bawl for about an hour about how I don't understand how to live a life with passion and also make the money I need. How often does a 30 year-old chick get to bawl on her boss' shoulder? Thank you to all of my friends - I lack for nothing in that department! :) "

The next day, I came into work.  Troy handed me an envelope.  I opened it, and found inside a card and letter from him and his wife Lisa, and a $100 bill.  I grinned and thanked him profusely!  Holy crap!  A free $100 bucks in cash!!!

Two hours later, my dear friends John and Cindy Hoover pull into the parking lot.  Attached to their car is a trailer with a barely-used beautiful white-and-chrome scooter motorbike of theirs on it.  They get out of the car, and say, "Surprise!"  Cindy hands me the title to the scooter, signed over to me!!!!  "Check out your new scooter, sister!" she and John exclaim! Dudes - they loaned me a car for six months and asked nothing in return, and yesterday they GIFTED me a totally functional, barely-used scooter!!  Cindy then hands me a blank check to pay for the registration on it, and lets me know that she's prepared to take me helmet shopping on Monday if I can't find/afford a helmet in the next two days.

HOLY.

CRAP.

!!!

All I can do is talk and talk and talk and giggle and laugh and make sure every person who comes into the shop congratulates me on my new motorcycle!!  :)  :)  And take it for like 5 test-drives around the parking lot.  And insist everyone that comes into the shop takes it for a test drive.  :)

James and Sunny

I leave work, and know my brother-in-law, James, just sold his motorbike, and may have a helmet.  I go to his house on my new ride and ask him, and he offers me this crazy helmet that was squishing my chubby cheeks.  The helmet wasn't ideal, but I thanked him and said I may or may not keep it depending on what else I could find.  I head over to my other sister, Shauna's, house, show off my scooter, and ask her if she has a helmet I can have.  As I'm telling her my whole story for the day, she stops me and says, "I have a cheap AT&T phone you can use!"  She runs into her office and brings out a phone for me, that's still in the box, and lets me know I can keep it as long as I need to, until I can afford my own replacement.

"By the way," Shauna's husband Billy adds, "Your dad was trying to sell some motorcycle helmets last week at his yard sale.  He gave them to Sunny and James.  So they should have extras that maybe James didn't know about..."

I head back over to Sunny and James' house and ask them about the other helmets.  "Oh yeah," they say, "but I think they're kid-size helmets."  They pull one out of their goodwill pile, and sure enough it fits like a glove!  And it's white and matches my scooter :)  Granted, it's like 20 years old, but it doesn't squish my face, lol, so I was STOKED!!

In short, in 24 hours after my breakdown, I had purchased my business license, had a new scooter and everything I needed to safely and legally operate it, got a replacement phone, and had $90 left over to put towards my contact lenses.

Shauna and Billy

Oh yeah, and right after my breakdown, Troy, who works as a Real Estate Agent, hooked me up with a job at his brokerage as a Spanish-to-English translator for shortsell files with Spanish-speaking sellers (because no one at his brokerage speaks Spanish!).  I already was assigned to my first file, and will be making $20 an hour just to go to meetings with sellers and translate - on my own schedule of availability, totally part-time, and doing something I can totally believe in (helping people get through a sticky financial time in their lives).

Problems.All.Solved.

SO...

Liberty.  You're welcome for
this choice in pic, Lib :)

I've been thinking about it, and why the timing happened as it did.  First of all, as I was talking to my sister Liberty (who feeds me and lets me live with her for free and totally gives me anything she can in terms of financial support and assistance even though she's a single mother of 4 kids and a student, because she believes in me, which is amazing in and of itself), and we realized that when I go to anger with issues, which I usually do first, it buries sadness deep inside of me.  By crying to Troy, and actually acknowledge that I'm not just mad and frustrated, but sad, I acknowledged and released the sadness, which was likely blocking the flow of energy/abundance to me.  Once I released the sadness, I immediately manifested major abundance through the generosity of an amazing community.

Lesson 1: Playing tough and angry blocks my energy.  Releasing sadness moves my energy.

Awesome.

Next, I couldn't stop thinking about the power of the Butterfly Effect.  In this situation, a whole cascade of blessings was waiting for me, and what really set it off, what released the avalanche, was me releasing my feelings, and THEN posting with honesty about my shortcomings and needs, and also gratitude for the support I WAS ALREADY receiving from a member of my community.  One small post got John and Cindy excited (and definitely not feeling obligated) about joining in on the fun of making someone's day (as Troy had done by listening to me and giving me permission to cry).  After John and Cindy left from dropping off my scooter, this is the stuff THEY were posting on Facebook:

"When you hang with amazing people,amazing things will manifest in your life."  - John Hoover

He was posting that hanging out with ME made his life manifest amazing things for HIM when he gave ME his scooter.  Like, what??  I'M the one who benefited from having HIS amazing friendship.  He is incapable of seeing how I have been blessed any more than he has by this experience.  Cindy was texting Liberty all night, reveling in her excitement at having seen my shocked face.  Cindy felt like SHE was getting the blessing, when she gave ME her scooter.  Amazing people!

So Troy listened to me bawl, John and Cindy immediately started cleaning up and making small repairs on the scooter, Lisa bought a card and found a crisp $100 bill, and I had done NOTHING to make that happen other than be honest and grateful despite my sadness over my trials.

Lisa was so excited about HER gift, her energy and juju was SO inspiring, that as she was picking up a rental car later that day, her economy car was upgraded to a brand-new sexy red mustang!  So she raced back to the shop to show me, and lo-and-behold I had my own cool new car and we all just laughed and laughed in a big happy family about the crazy fun abundance we were manifesting.

Then, as I was sharing my joy and hopping to new tasks, my sisters were thrilled to join in on the fun, giving me a phone and helmet.  Ripples and ripples of effect, ripples that John and Cindy felt, that Troy and Lisa experienced, that my sisters were able to perpetuate, on and on...

Going for a ride on my new bike with helmet!  Yeah!

And it was all happening because of relatively simple, but heartfelt and loving gestures on everyone's part.  A listening ear, passing around used but still useful resources, words of gratitude and simple tokens of appreciation.  There was no scheming, no master plan, to make this happen, and especially not to make it happen in such crazy, perfect timing.  It was just a ripple - a huge-ass ripple that somehow flowed out to my community and came back to me.  I didn't create it, I received it; they didn't create it, they received it and passed it on and the flow will continue forever, as long as the waters of connection and community are receptive to that marvelous rippling that does nothing but bless us.

That's the Butterfly Effect.

Hopefully, this blog got you feeling excited, and feeling a little fluttering of gratitude and hopefulness.  Hopefully, my words, your reading them, and sharing the possibilities of the power of unity and generosity will pass on a ripple that will reach your life and beyond!  I think it can and will.  I believe it's your turn to also receive!

Spiritual Memoir #6: Life is Not a Competition ... or ... The Race I'd Never Win

 For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite Tarot

Tarot Card: Nine of Wands

(see pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card
"When creation cages the creator"

I totally pick these cards at random - and I found it really interesting to get the nine of wands right after the four of wands.  Because I see the four of wands as mastering creative power and sticking it in the ground as the framing for life (see post on that HERE) ... and I see the nine of wands (this post) as that use of creative power barely being contained - to the point where it's haunting to the creator.

In the Rider Waite symbolism, the dude is looking very jumpy and suspicious, with a wall of wands/creations behind him.  He's holding on tight to one wand, looking over his shoulder.  The card feels so defensive, protective, and afraid.  But the wands aren't doing that, the wands are just being what wands are; the dude has turned them into a wall for him to peek through to the world.

In contrast, the four of wands shows the wands independently standing, with people cheering their energy on.  It's open and community-oriented.  This card, the nine, is closed and impatiently impersonal.

Crystal Visions Tarot

In the Crystal Visions tarot, a fiery and melancholy woman sits on her lion throne, surrounded in the night by blazing torches. This depiction seems more confident which is a positive edge, but overall it still feels brazen, defensive and almost threatening to me.

Little caveat here: As I was looking at/for different nine of wands cards from different decks for this post, I found a lot of variety in the energy of the card - often with a more positive and reassuring twist.  While that's cool, I like the cards in the tarot that carry shady, nervous, dark, or cold energies, because I feel like they create a more complete, complex reflection of the world we live in.  (My Spirit Guides disagree with me though ... see THIS post).  So I leave this card in its ill-dignified interpretation for this post, and will do so with other cards in future posts, as I see fit.  (Man, is that statement the Emperor meets Queen of Swords or what?!?  I'm so bold! :)

Spiritual Memoir: Nine of Wands
When I was about 8 years old, I started a fast-paced track in life.  My parents saw that normal old public school didn't challenge me, so they started me in various challenging extra curricular activities.  I started with private art lessons at home and horseback riding lessons at a local farm.  At about age 10, I was already fluent in Spanish, so I also started private French tutoring at home.  Then, my parents got me an oboe tutor, picking what they understood to be one of the hardest instruments to play.  I excelled at all of it.  Next, I skipped sixth grade, gaining permission from the school board after scoring 136 on an IQ test.

In Junior High, I took advanced classes, but still was bored out of my mind.  My dad bribed my teachers to give me extra assignments and book reports that would affect my grades in exchange for him donating expensive book sets to the school library.  I liked math a lot, and on my own took my pre-algebra book home and finished the entire book's assignments in about two weeks.  So the school moved me into algebra.  I finished that book in about two months.  So then they put me in geometry.  I taught myself geometry in about half a school year.  I was 12.

By the time I was 15, I had been to over 20 countries in the world, was fluent in French and Spanish, and skipped 10th, 11th and 12th grades, and started my first semester of college.  At 16 I worked three jobs, completed my Associate's Degree and paid for all of my books and tuition with my own cash, bought myself a car, and spent the summer setting up the entire inventory system of my sister's new bookstore.  Believe it or not, I had a healthy circle of friends and even dated.

Once, when I was 16 I got hired as an Executive Assistant to a top executive at a prestigious local company, based on my resume and interview.  He called me back the next day and told me that he couldn't give me the job because he found out I wasn't a legal adult.  I also flew through all interviews for a $35,000/year job at 16 and was going to be hired, but my brother worked at the company and talked the managers out of it because I was young and, though accomplished, actually historically flighty.

Housewives Tarot

Despite the age discrimination, the world was my oyster!  Like the Housewives Tarot's nine of wands, I had my happy face on with all of the brooms and mops surrounding me as I climbed my ladder of success.  Anything was possible, and I actually had the terrible attitude of thinking everyone around me was pretty dumb.  I knew I could do anything, ace any challenge, impress anyone I talked to, and get away with just about any degree of nonsense.

And with that, I found myself very alone in the world.

Although I was surrounded by peers and admirers and all of the wonderful wands of my accomplishments, I was lonely in my defensive stronghold of awesomeness.  I had no idea who I was.  I knew I could do anything, but chose to do what would impress or shock or fill my resume ... never what I liked, or what I was passionate about, or what fulfilled me, or blessed others.

It got worse over time, and hit like a ton of bricks when I was 21 years old.  I had earned a Bachelor's Degree in Business Administration.  I hate business.  I was out of debt and had a teacher that offered to take me under his wing and start a market research firm with him.  I hated market research, and in reality, hated the teacher (although looking back I adore him!).  I didn't have any friends except my one sister.  I had stopped dating and was holding out for one particular person whom I had alienated and expected to come back.  I was a shell.  I was a fancy exterior around a scared, lonely, angry little girl.  And for the first time in my life I realized that without the competition of racing through life, I had nothing.

Accomplishments don't necessarily define us, and they certainly don't always improve us.  Nine of wands energy speaks of how sometimes we create for the sake of creation, we do for the sake of doing.  It's a trap.  We can get so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that we forget who we are and why we're about the tasks at hand.  Think about times when you realized you weren't eating because you were hungry - you were eating for the sake of eating; or that you weren't dating someone because you loved them or enjoyed their company - but were with them for the sake of not being alone.  Mindless occupation, habits of industry, hegemonic compliance.

My passion for overachieving and racing through life built a wall around me, and when I stopped to consider where I was at, I found myself trapped in a ring of fire (like the Crystal Visions tarot).  I was ready to defend myself!! ... but against what?

Incidentally I had an experience at age 24 where I was invited in a meditation to visualize myself with God, and to ask Him who I was.  Who am I?  Whether or not it was God I talked to or just getting in touch with my higher self, or my inner being, the answer surprised me...
I wasn't told I was a smart, accomplished, fast, powerful leader of the universe...

"You are a tender, Divine, accepting woman of light."

That's what I heard.  I am kind, I am deep, I am open to others, I am wise, I am gentle... hmmm... no race or competition in that...

And what's really interesting is that I realized, at age 24, that was how I actually saw myself.  I saw myself in my mind's eye as a gentle, quiet, deep-thinking, and accepting 8 year-old.  Right back to where I started off!

Lesson learned: life's not a race or competition - that attitude isolates and alienates, building fiery walls of separation between me and others.  Keep to my heart, my purpose, my values.   Just because I am capable of tearing the world apart with big brains and an intimidating resume, doesn't mean I ought to, doesn't mean I have to to be a good or valuable person, and certainly doesn't mean I want to.  The tools don't define the objectives of master, the master wields the tools for his own design - (but first, he becomes the master).


"As human beings, our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world - that is the myth... - as in being able to remake ourselves."  --Gandhi

Sometimes experiments fail. And we can talk about that too.

It's been two months since I posted.  Whew, time kinda flies (but also kinda stands still).  I think about posting a lot, but generally don't for the same reason over and over ... I feel performance anxiety.  People really liked my last entry, I say to myself, what if this next one is dumb, or sounds whiny or isn't well thought-out?!?!?  And so I don't post.

I don't regret it, but it is kind of inauthentic to only post the feelings, thoughts, conclusions and impressions that I deem "worthy" of the audience.  After all, I have titled this blog a search for and experimentation with Truth - shouldn't failed experiments be included in my reporting as well as the successful ones?  I think so!  So without a long expose', I will shine a light on the past two months.

It's been really, really rough.  Not rough because I've been busy at the grindstone, but rough because I've been beating myself up about not being busy at the grindstone.  I would wake up, usually at about 1:30 in the afternoon, and think of how pathetic and inappropriate such a late hour was.  I'd not feel like going in to volunteer at the coffee shop, and feel like a withholder and feel unreliable for not doing so.  I'd sit around the house in my jammies all day, and point out to myself that I am the epitome of white trash.  Of course, just about anyone I'd talk to about this would look at me like I was crazy and say, "I don't judge you.  I don't think that about you.  I actually don't think about how early you wake up, what you do with your time, or how you dress at all...  You're fretting over nothing!"  Their comforting words would provide temporary solace, but of course, the only true acceptance we can ever feel has to come from ourselves... and I was my worst critic.

I also read a lot of fiction and watched a lot of TV.  Hooray for the Mistborn trilogy, the Hunger Games, The Three Musketeers, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Spartacus, The Walking Dead and so on.  I didn't like Inkheart that much though, and started reading Inkspell and just couldn't get past the first 80 pages because it was for too young of an audience...  This was another tool I employed:  fiction/TV mixed with some wine provided a perfect cocktail of numbness and "checking-out."  I don't regret this, but have beat myself up about it.  Of course, like with everyone else, no one else criticized me about it at all.  It was just my own self-reproach that gnawed at me.

I got better at it, but I did pendulum swing.  It became about being proud and defensive about all of it.  I LOVE that I get to sleep in and pity you because you don't!  Or I'm not so shallow as to care about how I look.  Obviously WE'RE not on the same level!  Ah, the snide nature of defensiveness.  I didn't actually say these things to anybody, but I shielded myself with the words.  Of course, no one was shooting arrows, so a shield was pointless.  All that happened was my self-criticism grew ... and became charged with anger.

I felt abandoned by God.  (In this blog post I'm going to call God "She" for the fun of mixing it up.  I have permission from God to do this.  The "God" I know has no gender.)  She wasn't fixing it.  Here I was, "giving up everything" and She wasn't doing Her part of the deal.  She's betrayed me again!

Do you know that I went through 48 hours of pure hell because I knew my bank account was short the $0.93 needed for an upcoming automatic withdrawal, and I had the $1 bill in my hand, but it was a weekend and I didn't know the PIN to my new debit card, so I couldn't deposit the $1 through the ATM?  I mean, it's pretty ridiculous in retrospect, but it sucked to live through.  I knew it was ridiculous too, but I feel trapped, bound, worried, and betrayed.  God said She'd provide for me ... why was even the simplest thing soooo haaarrdd!?!?

And finally, in the spirit of transparency, I awoke last Tuesday, and laid in bed for about 2 hours, finding comfort in the thought of death.  Death wouldn't solve my problems, I knew, but it would at least change the scenery.  For the record, I had no intention of actually seeking death, but I did start liking the idea of an "escape."

And then a cat snapped me out of it.

Well, the cat started the chain of events that did.  I was house-sitting for a friend, and needed to go feed her cat.  I'd just spent two hours in a class where I'm supposed to lead a spiritual discussion, that turned into two hours of me venting about my sense of betrayal (BTW thanks to my two special co-students for hearing me out and offering love and support!!).  After my class, I intended to walk into my friend's house, dump food in the cat bowl and walk out.  But instead, this adorable little furball named Duchess enticed me into an exchange: she'd get snuggled and loved, and I'd get someone to listen to me vent some more.  That got boring after about 30 minutes so I decided to play my friend's Game Cube while snuggling.  That got boring really fast, but the cat was simply too perfect to leave behind for the evening, so I looked at my friend's movies, and found an Abraham-Hicks lecture on video.  This is the last shot You've got, God.  I'll watch this for 10 minutes, and if I don't feel better, I'm done with You.

Four hours later (2 full DVDs of lectures), I couldn't remember how I'd even been so upset in the first place!  It was all Law of Attraction - I was focused on betrayal, so my life dished up more time and opportunities to fit into the lens of betrayal.  I was focused on justifying my anger, so I had an experience of ever-increasing anger.  And so on.  The only difference between Eeyore and everyone else in the Thousand Acre Wood is where the sad little donkey puts his attention -- his attitude -- right?  (Thanks FB friends for winning me over to the philosophical power of the Pooh stories!)  And I could believe it was real because the minute, while watching the DVD, I looked at my situation through a lens of maybe this is actually a fun experience, it started looking pretty fun.  And funny.

Then I read over the next few days Conversations with God: An Uncommon Dialogue by Neale Donald Walsch, which is rocking my world, and helping me see that all of the negativity I was drawing from my "spirituality" was because I was kinda seeking the failure as a means to justify my anger.  I wanted to be angry.  I still do a lot of the time.  But I feel empowered to accept that there may be a better way.  Instead of seeing this life as a challenging task of overcoming the ego, Conversations with God has helped me to see it as my personal creation of a story of Ascension.  That has a better energy to it, right?  It even sounds ... (dare I say it??) ... fun!

So it's been a good week :)

It took about 3 days, but after conscious attitude shifting, and taking a little accountability for my life, and enjoying the mystery a little, and especially asking for help with an expectation of receiving it, instead of with anger for needing it, things started turning better.  I feel hopeful and even a little delighted, and the perceived entrapment has faded out.

And now I have that off of my chest.   

Back again...but not sure if I want to be...

I just read some of my old posts in this blog.  I like them.  A lot.  In fact, I like ME in them.

Which brings me to my distress in posting to this blog again - I don't want to mar some good thinking and positive energy with negativity and sadness.  But alas, I'm going to, because I think it will be good for me.

A lot has changed in the something like 3 years since I started writing.  I am, in fact, definitely "more successful" now than I was when writing before.  But I don't feel that way.  I feel lost and icky.

Incidentally, as far as my success goes, I haven't followed wealth or power or found true love - but I have found a dream and followed it, and have had some successes along the way, including a fabulous opportunity to study under the greatest minds in my field (international aid and development).  So why-oh-why the sadness?

Lots of reasons, but instead of dredging up the past, I'm just going to focus from here forward.

Life stresses me out.  For some reason, I feel like a slave to life, instead of a creator or champion.  I feel like every choice I make ties me into 1,000 commitments that I don't want to be a part of.  I burn out so easily.

On the one hand, I hear accolades that I'm "amazing" and "taking on so much."  But inside I know that I'm not doing as much as others, as much as I probably could.  So what do I do with that?

I'm curious about others, especially those I really look up to and aspire to be like.  How did they get to be that way - so driven and focused and diligent?  Were they born that way?  Is it just because they're boys and I'm a girl (yes, all of my idols/heroes are boys)?  Is it because they're so much older than me (they're all 50+, or at least were at the time of their dawning greatness)?  Is it something I can learn with discipline?  Is it something I can learn without discipline?  Is it worth it to become that, or do they have, every day, the same feelings of "not enough" and "must do more" that I do?  And that's no way to live.  ... or is it?

I think I need to be more rigorous in my spiritual practices and studies.  I know that sounds like an obvious thing to "think" I need to do, lol.  A Course in Miracles is my book, and meditation is my practice.  Maybe yoga too.

So that's why I'm writing in this blog again.  I can't just do those things, I need an outlet for them.  And now I'm living in New York City and don't really have a soul-friend that I can sit on a porch with and drink wine with and share my spirituality with.  So this blog seems like a good outlet.

To be continued...